


A Piece of the Action

by deacontent



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: (he also has a big crush on his captain), Episode: s02e20 A Piece of the Action, First Kiss, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, chekov is actually the cutest, kirk is a nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 06:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20020426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deacontent/pseuds/deacontent
Summary: Captain Kirk is having a little too much fun pretending to be a 1920's era mobster. Chekov is the only person who seems to like it.





	A Piece of the Action

**Author's Note:**

> i really like star trek and chekov is such a sweetheart. this is probably really dumb but I wrote it for fun and i think it's cute LOL, lmk what you think!!! <3

"We gotta put the bag on 'em, Sulu," the Captain declared boisterously and enthusiastically in his faux trans-Atlantic accent, leaning back in his chair with his arms across his chest.

Jim was, of course, referring to the Klingon ship they had detected on their radar, those who had ostensibly hijacked the spacecraft a few solar days prior. Sulu responded with a half amused, half irritated huff, calculating their distance from the runaway craft. 

Chekov liked when the Captain played pretend. There was no doubt that Kirk was inherently confident otherwise; Pavel could see it in his stride, in the way he spoke, the way that he would cock his head. But adopting some other persona seemed to provide him even more confidence. He became decisive, pertinacious; sure of himself. The Ensign liked that.

It had been a few Earth days (approximately seven) since they left Sigma Iotia II, on which Kirk and Spock had to blend in in order to arrive safe back upon the Enterprise. "Blending in," in this case, meant dressing up as mobsters. James played his character well.

"Uhura, sweetheart," Kirk started in his old-fashioned drawl, gesturing calmly with two fingers. "Make contact with these bastards. Tell 'em I wanna see 'em surrender or else they won't be lookin' so pretty once I'm through with 'em."

Pavel chuckled softly, keeping his gaze down at his navigation pad. He was the only one enjoying this, but no one said anything. Jim was the captain, after all.

Uhura obliged and relayed a heavily altered version of the message to the Klingons, however they still failed to take it very nicely. Chekov turned in his chair, eyeing Kirk with amusement and a poorly hidden smile. "We are in perfect range for fire, Captain. Their ship is travelling quickly towards Lambda Kappa IV. They will be in orbit in approximately eleven minutes if they refuse to surrender."

"Oh yeah, they'll be in orbit, alright. But not at Lambda," Kirk commented with a smirk and a silly chuckle, his eyes meeting the Ensign's with a wink. Pavel's stomach twisted.

"Thanks, baby. Prepare the heaters. Remember, we want 'em to surrender, not to be burnt to smithereens."

Chekov nodded and turned to his navigation pad, a heavy blush decorating his cheeks. He knew it was all part of the character Kirk was playing, but he was still a little flushed. With a shaky breath he obeyed the command, the process second nature to him. "_'Heaters'_ being prepared, sir. Estimated time of function is twenty-six seconds."

"Acknowledged." Jim nodded with a growing smile, something he attempted to hide with the back of his hand. Too many people were rolling their eyes to notice. Kirk, however, was happy someone was playing along.

"Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve…" Sulu counted down, adjusting their distance from the craft.

"Aim for the engines," the Captain clarified, leaning forward in his chair. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five…

\--------------

The Klingons ultimately surrendered, and they were beamed onto the Enterprise (along with their hostages) to be in custody until they were able to be transported to their home planet.

Pavel was lucky to not be working the night shift, and typically he would take advantage of his free time to its fullest extent. Tonight, though, he was a bit too restless.

The ship was a lot darker at night, Chekov's path illuminated merely by runway lights. It was peaceful, and the Ensign appreciated the quiet when he was able to indulge in it.

Pavel liked the way the floor lights illuminated his feet. He walked down the hall with his head down, smiling amusedly at his brightly colored (rather juvenile) cat-patterned socks that he had put on along with his pajamas.

Chekov was far too into his thoughts when he met another pair of feet just a few turns away from the mess hall. Unlike him, the person was wearing undecorated, plain white socks. Pavel flinched before he could run into the man, darting his head up to look at who he nearly mowed over. Captain Kirk. The Ensign shifted uncomfortably and offered a nervous half smile, worried the Captain would crucify him for not being in his quarters at such an ungodly hour. Instead, Jim mirrored his smile, albeit a more reassuring and amused one. The tension left Chekov's shoulders. Kirk liked seeing him relax.

"Are you well, Mr. Chekov?" His superior asked with a cock of his head, the amusement reaching his voice as well. The Ensign nodded.

"Yes, Captain," he said, his voice not as steady as he'd hoped for. "My sincerest apologies. I was having trouble getting to sleep, and I thought I'd… Take a walk, to clear my mind."

Kirk nodded in understanding. Chekov assumed that he was having the same issue.

"Would you like me to walk you back to your quarters?"

Surprised, Pavel raised his eyebrows, but quickly lowered them to shield his nerves. "O-Only if you do not mind, Captain."

Kirk chuckled and placed a hand on his colleague's shoulder blade, walking with him down the hall. "You can disregard the formalities, Pavel. We're not on the bridge."

"Of course, Jim," he corrected. Chekov held his breath, his shoulders tensing again. 

James never seemed to leave him alone. He was always at the front of his mind, smiling the way only Kirk could. He couldn't think straight anymore. His face was always warm, to the point where Bones had brought him to the sick bay quite a few times to test for fevers.

If Pavel were dishonest, he would say he hated it. But he didn't.

The Captain cleared his throat, eyeing his Ensign through his peripherals. They stopped in front of Chekov's stateroom, and they met eyes. 

"You seem rather pensive," James commented, cocking his head curiously. "As they say on Sigma Iotia II," he raised his eyebrows and slipped again into that trans-Atlantic drawl, "what's eatin' ya?"

Chekov chuckled, a smitten, ambivalent little thing, which was so hushed it traveled about as far as Kirk's ears could hear it. He shook his head and focused his gaze back onto the ground. "Nothing, Jim." He paused, a smile pulling at his lips, and bashfully looked up at Kirk through his eyelashes. "I like it when you do that voice."

Kirk's heart broke like an egg yolk at the sight, a pleasant little feeling. He felt warm. He took a moment to appreciate Pavel's expression, then brought his shoulders back, quirking his eyebrow. "Well that's just ducky, ain't it, kitten?"

Chekov let go of the breath he didn't realize he was holding, and it turned into a laugh when it was halfway out of his lungs. "I do not know what that means, but I'm sure I would agree with you, Captain."

"The name's Jim, sweetheart," he drawled, leaning forward for emphasis. 

Pavel leaned most of his weight against the wall, dizzy. Kirk couldn't keep the facade going without a smile growing on his face like a sun parting the clouds. Chekov smiled, too, and it felt like Jim's heart was bubbling over again.

Pavel felt electricity flowing under his skin, stopping at his fingertips. He rarely had an opportunity to truly look at James, let alone this close. And Chekov was enamored. The thought nearly frightened him.

The Ensign felt hesitant, but somehow the words began to form themselves. "...Of course I like your regular voice, as well, Cap—Jim."

Kirk quirked an eyebrow again, biting back a smile. "... Acknowledged, Mr. Chekov," he teased, a hint of adoration highlighting his speech. "I'll be glad to inform you that I have an… appreciation for your voice as well."

Pavel traced the lilt of his Captain's tone in his mind, his heart picking up a few beats-per-minute. He shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, his clothes rustling as he did. "I—… Thank you, sir."

James hummed in acknowledgement, the sound reverberating in the air and causing Chekov to shiver, just for a moment.

The Ensign was overtaken by a sudden sense of urgency, and part of him just wanted him to _do something._ He didn't give himself time to consider the repercussions. Maybe it was because he was exhausted, or maybe it was from the sudden rush of adrenaline that jump-started his entire body. He straightened up and met the captain's eyes.

"I like you," Chekov declared almost abruptly, the statement sounding a lot more childish out loud than it did in his head. 

The left side of the Captain's lip curled upwards, and he let out a breathy chuckle. "Well I would hope so."

The Ensign chewed on his bottom lip. His message must not have been received. That must have been why he was a navigator, not a communications officer, he thought to himself.

The magnetic pull he felt towards Kirk was relentless. He gave in just a little, taking about a half of a step forward to test the waters. The Captain didn't take a step away. Chekov thought that was a good sign. 

Another step forward, and they were nearly chest-to-chest. Jim, though unintentionally, leaned forward just slightly, and Pavel finally found what he was looking for in Kirk's eyes. Tentatively, he placed a hand on his Captain's cheek and placed a ghost of a kiss on his lips. The electricity traveling under Chekov's skin nearly zapped his fingertips. Their lips were still brushing when Kirk leaned back in, placing his hands on the Ensign's waist.

The kiss was a gentle little thing, and it couldn't have lasted longer than a few seconds. A direct contrast from the Captain's usual kisses, and he came to the conclusion that he preferred it.

They parted, and Chekov's heart was beating so rapidly he was afraid he would begin to float. He had to keep his arms around Kirk's neck to keep himself from collapsing. All the adrenaline had finally caught up to him, and his knees were trembling. Jim noticed and chuckled in endearment.

"Do you need me to carry you into your quarters, Mr. Chekov?"

"I certainly would not mind, Captain," Chekov confessed through a lovesick sigh.

Kirk picked him up, and they kissed again.


End file.
